Josie stretched out her arms behind her. She was browner, slimmer, and fitter than she’d been last year, but despite that it was hard to believe she’d been in Botswana for nearly a year now. Bia and Laura had both been out to visit her, and Helen kept threatening to do so. Josie had been worried about leaving Memo so soon after heart surgery, but after a three-month recovery, Memo had proven her determination and, by all accounts, was pretty much back to normal. The internship was nearing an end, but she had another month to figure out the next step, and she wasn’t worried. She’d found what she loved doing—even though she still had to pinch herself that she was doing it here, of all places—and she knew she’d find something similar, in time. She’d started to put the feelers out, and she knew Charlotte would give her a good reference. But some of the best things, as she knew first-hand, came from the gaps in life, so if she ended up with nothing for a few months then it wasn’t the end of the world.
One of the helipilots moved away from the group, calling his goodbyes, and Josie set her Savanna down, then got to her feet and jogged to catch up with him, her T-shirt sticking to her back with sweat. “Off to the airport?” she asked.
“Yeah, some guests coming in and I’ve got to pick up some supplies.”
She linked her arm through his, walked alongside him. “Can I ask you a favor?”
He grinned. “Anything for you, gorgeous.”
“Can you put some letters in the post for me over there?”
He nodded, held his hand out for the two letters she slipped out of her shorts pocket. They were a little crinkled, but she didn’t think the recipients would mind, given the circumstances. He frowned as she handed them over. “You’ve forgotten the addresses, Jo.” She didn’t know why, but everyone here insisted on shortening her name as much as possible.
“I know. They don’t need them.” She shook her head when he raised his eyebrows. “Don’t ask.”
“All right then.” And he set off, heading toward his helicopter and back to civilization for a few hours. She smiled a little to herself, standing still for a minute to look out at the setting sun. Who would have thought that this would be how she was fulfilling her Christmas tradition this year? With one difference now, of course—two letters in place of one, three people forever in her heart instead of two.
The sky was turning orange—the sunsets here were like nothing else, surrounded by the African wildlife. She stayed there a moment longer, breathing in the warm air, tilted her tanned face to the sky, and smiled, just in case anyone was watching. Then she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, and went back to the others to welcome in Christmas.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I’m writing to you from Africa this year, would you believe it, and it’s Christmas again already. Things have been busy, hectic, and amazing. I know you’d have loved it here. Memo is doing well, and the doctor thinks she’ll be OK, thank God for that. I’ve promised to spend Christmas with them next year at home, no matter what I end up doing next, and I’m already looking forward to it.
I still miss you both, and I always will, but I’m so proud of where I am now, and I know you would be too.
Merry Christmas and lots of love,
Josie
Dear Max,
Almost a year exactly since I last saw you and I feel both that so much time has passed and that none has passed at all. There’s a part of me that still expects you to just show up out here in Africa, in that way of yours, and I’m not sure if that will ever pass. Maybe that’s because you’re still with me, in a way that will never change.
I’ve been Skyping your sister from out here—she’s not much into letter writing, she says. After you died, she and Liam rearranged the wedding, and they’re due to get married next June. It’s going to be in the same castle as Laura and John’s wedding, because I told Chloe about that weekend, about how happy you’d been when you were there. She’s invited me and I’m going to go. I’m going to go, and I’m going to dance out under the stars there, and think of you.
I wish you would have told me what was happening to you, Max, but I understand why you didn’t—though that part has taken some time, I’ll admit. I know that you were just trying to protect me from it, but you should have known that would never have been possible. Because as much as you said that I made your life brighter, you were the light in mine when you were there, and so many times when you weren’t.
I wish so many things. I wish you hadn’t felt you had to go through all that alone. I wish this hadn’t happened to you, because I know in my heart that had we had the chance, we would have been together forever. I wish I’d gotten to know you sooner, so that I could have known you for longer. But I’m learning that you can’t change what was, so instead of wishing, I’ll use this letter to thank you. These past two years have changed my life, and that all started with you.